


I'll Be Good

by Caliginous_Confused



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Jesse has anxiety toward the past, M/M, Past Drug Use, Past Violence, Song Inspired, and Hanzo has ptsd, this is them bonding together and helping each other heal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13209324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caliginous_Confused/pseuds/Caliginous_Confused
Summary: Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada have both had a rough life. Both have done things they regret. They are working to better themselves, and the world around them, but it's never easy. Nightmares, self-loathing, and their own minds are at the end of the day their worst enemy. They have each other for comfort, so they aren't along.Inspired by Jaymes Young's "I'll be Good"





	1. Jesse

"I thought I saw the devil  
This morning  
Looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue  
With the warning  
To help me see myself clearer  
I never meant to start a fire  
I never meant to make you bleed  
I'll be a better man today"  
-  Jaymes Young "I'll be Good"

Jesse kicked his boots through the sand, a cloud blowing in the wind, further imbedding into his clothes. Dirt was slowly becoming a part of who he was, it was like a second skin. He ran his tongue over the piece of straw he kept in between his lips as he spun the chamber of his gun, and clicked it in with a flick of his wrist. A pull of the hammer, and he was locked and loaded.

“McCree focus!” came his name from someone behind him. McCree sighed and spit out the grass and turned toward the sound. The corners of his mouth were pulled down, and a single eyebrow was raised. “The train’s almost here.”

“I know, an’ I know what I gotta do. Crowd control. Ya know, I am better put elsewhere here.” He shook his head. His collar was grabbed as he was lifted onto his tip-toes.

“You’re gonna control ‘em, or do we gotta make an’ example outta you?”

“No need boss,” McCree said with a sneer as he pushed the equally dusty man off of him as he pulled his bandana up to cover his chin as he narrowed his eyes at his superior. He turned to look at the train tracks in front of him, listening to the distant sounds of a train whistle. He knelt and waited until it was distantly seen over the horizon.

He joined the other members of Deadlock that had been rounded up for this mission, and stood on the edge of a jeep, hand on his hat, his hair blowing through the wind. His eyes were squinting as a mixture of air and dust blew in his face. Adrenaline preemptively started pumping through his system, and it only increased as the sounds of a train approaching.

The crunch of the dirt served to be soothing, it was a steady and familiar. It took some weight away from the rock that was settling deep inside his stomach. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes before tossing his cigar to the side, pulling his bandana over his mouth. A brief question on his mind on where the cigar even came from to begin with, but with the heist on the forefront of his mind, he’d tackle that question later. He tried to center himself, getting ready to pull his gun out and take out whoever he was told to.

His stomach felt light for a second, and then he dropped immediately as he realized he was falling. The jeep he was standing on was gone, and before he could comprehend what was happening a dull ringing was all that he heard as the air left his body. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt the thud of the jeep landing. A shadow loomed over him. McCree rolled over and coughed, looking at the shadow over him on the ground. He heard a muffled voice as he reached to his holster and rolled over, shooting at the figure.

A stream of smoke flew away where the figure once stood.

McCree blinked in confusion as his serape fell onto his arms. His left one grew heavy as his eyes scanned the grounds for the figure.

“McCree,” came a growl behind him. He spun around quickly and shot toward where he heard the voice. A thud was heard as his eyes widened as he took a step back.

A kid was grasping at his side, trying his hardest to stop the bleeding. McCree threw down Peacekeeper and ran toward him, pressing his own hands against the wound. “It’s gonna be okay,” McCree assured as he was focused on doing whatever he could t stop the bleeding. “Shit.” He whispered to himself.

“You can’t save them,” the ethereal growl said behind him.

“I gotta try!” He argued turning his head slightly toward the sound. The kid under him sputtered and when he turned back, he shot to his feet. “Lena?”

“You’re still the same ingrate I picked up all those years go.”

“Shut you’re damn mouth Reyes!” Jesse yelled, seeing red in one of his eyes as he turned toward the sound once more. He froze as all his friends from Overwatch held their weapons toward him, drawn, charged, ready to be unleashed on him. He blinked and tried to let go of Peacekeeper.

Wait…

When did he pick her back up?

He felt the corners of his mouth pull up in a sneer.

“You’ll never change,” the growl said once more as McCree found himself pulling the trigger.

\----

McCree gasped and shot up in bed, panting. Sweat coated his body as he frantically looked around the space he was in, finding the randomly discarded clothes he wore the day before haphazardly thrown on the ground in a path leading to his bed. On the nightstand next to him, there were his cigars, and his Peacekeeper, unloaded but bullets close enough that he’d be able to load her with no trouble if trouble came.

A small stream of muted light came through the window, and the glaring red numbers on the alarm clock he kept on his desk told him it was just after 3. No use going back to sleep now. Running his hand over his face, he swung his feet onto the ground and slowly stood up.

He walked to the bathroom and turned on the water. He splashed some cold water onto his face, taking a towel and rubbing it off and lifting his head to look at his reflection to assess just how shitty he looked.

The scream left his mouth before he could stifle it. Instead of his rugged, dirty reflection was replaced with a stark white mask with cold, dark eyes. He reached for his gun, and spun around, a new wave of panic passing over him as he realized he was unarmed.

“Reyes –“ He stopped as he saw nothing in the room with him. He bowed his head and cursed under his breath. It was too early for this. He needed something to calm his nerves. Getting out of his room seemed like a good place to start, maybe going to the roof, have a cigar and drink some.

He pulled on a shirt and sweatpants on before he walked out of his room. He started toward the door by the lounge to leave, then light caught his eye. Who else was up in this ungodly hour? Knowing that normally demons of the past were the reasons most of the members of Overwatch were up, he decided to investigate. If he found out it was a younger member, he probably would hate himself even more.

“Han? Darlin’ what are you doin’ up?” McCree asked his voice still rough with sleep at the man rubbing his face as he waited on water to boil. He jumped and looked alarmed for a second, reaching for a knife from the block behind him, stopping once he realized who was in the room with him.

“Jesse. My apologies, I have just returned, and I was simply making some tea before I go to sleep. The more important question is, what are you doing up?” McCree looked down and shifted his weight awkwardly for a second before looking up at him.

“Aww you know…same old,” he responded sheepishly.

“Sit.” Hanzo said plainly. McCree didn’t move, and instead tilted his head in confusion.

“’scuse me?”

“Sit,” Hanzo responded, a little sterner than he did previously. He opened the cabinet above him and pulled down another cup and checked on the water. “I will drag you to the stool McCree, I might be tired, but I am still more awake than you.”

“Alright, alright, I am sittin’.” McCree did his best to not make the stool scrape against the floor before sitting down and running his hand over his face once more.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Hanzo asked gently as he continued to preparing the tea.

“No particularly.” Hanzo moved to pick up the kettle and pour water in both of them.

“I understand. Regardless if you want to talk about it, I am prepared to listen.” A cup was set in front of him. “In the meantime, please drink.”

McCree looked at the cup in front of him and blinked a few times. He didn’t really feel much like tea. Normally he’d be all over Hanzo’s tea, but that night with the bile in his throat he really didn’t want to drink it. “Han-“

“McCree, please it will help calm you down. I know you’re trying to hide it, but you’re on edge.” The gunslinger looked at Hanzo out of the corner of his eye. Creases were in the archer’s face, worry was the trademark expression on his face. A gentle hand reached over and gently held Jesse’s. “This will help calm you down. It won’t harm. Then, you may do whatever it was you planned on doing to make the demons cease their attack.”

Jesse sighed and a ghost of a smile was on his face. He turned his hand over and held Hanzo’s hand in return. “Alright darlin’. I’ll drink this, an’ then I’ll probably go take Peacekeeper out for a spin.” Hanzo nodded and squeezed his hand before letting go to drink his own tea.

This wasn’t the first time they had been up at the same time. Nightmares were a common occurrence for the both of them, as was coming back late from a mission. Insomnia and anxiety were other common causes. If one was awake, it’d be rare that the other wouldn’t be awake as well. This is where they became friends, bonding over the darkness that surrounded both their pasts and how they were both desperately grasping on what little parts of themselves were redeemable. That friendship grew, and now they were where they were currently.

“Thank you,” McCree said after finally taking a sip of the tea. The cup was still warm in his hands, somehow reminding him that he was very much alive. “For the tea.”

“Of course, you’ve helped me similarly.” McCree hummed and nodded as he stared into the cup before taking another sip.

He felt empty inside. The nightmares solidified that feeling. The warmth of the tea helped, but it didn’t soothe the pit of self-loathing that he was going down. The dream depicted him as a heartless monster, and he was. Blackwatch proved to be no different than Deadlock when it came down to it. He was still being told what to do and who to shoot. There was just some sugar coating at the end of the day trying to sell the idea that what he had done would better the world.

He knew that Hanzo felt it as well.

He saw it in his face as he watched Genji walk through the base, and when he catches Hanzo awake in the middle of the night like they currently were. It all was seen now, as he waited for McCree to confess for the umpteenth time that he killed kids, as a kid, and that was his biggest regret.

“I am going to sleep Jesse,” Hanzo announced after a few moments. Jesse turned toward him.

“Alright, sleep well darlin’,” Jesse responded. Hanzo hesitated, looking at Jesse with sad eyes before taking his hand and squeezing it once last time before he got up, washed his cup and went to his room.

Jesse was alone with his thoughts.

This was one of the most dangerous things Hanzo could’ve done, and he knew it. Jesse wasn’t going to tell Hanzo, the archer already knew. He had been given an opportunity to receive help from someone who understood more than anyone how he felt, and instead of letting him, Jesse decided to stay quiet. Hanzo had to take care of himself, and with that he knew that meant he went to sleep. He didn’t blame Hanzo, had this been the reverse situation, Jesse would’ve done the same thing.

After he had finished his tea, he washed out his cup like Hanzo had done and went to the roof to sit down, light a cigar, and watch the sunrise as he attempted to drown out the negative thoughts with whiskey.

Thoughts telling himself that he was nothing more than the gun in his holster, that he only knew of destruction and he could never love. Maybe that’s why he and Hanzo never called themselves a couple despite nights spent in each other’s tender embrace?  They both sure as hell didn’t deserve love.

McCree exhaled a stream of smoke to the sky as he shook his head. Kids, Deadlock thugs he saw as his brothers, his own family to a point, and Reyes, all stepped into his life, and now, they all were dead in some way shape or form.

He truly was a monster.

A monster that was still trying to redeem himself.

A monster who wanted nothing more than just to be considered good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been meaning to write this for about a year now, and I finally got around to do it. So here's the plan. Chapter's 1 and 2 are individual angst, with chapter 3 together angst, and chapter 4 is them getting better. The first two Chapters, are directly inspired by the verses of the song, as is chapter 4 with the chorus. I hope y'all enjoy.


	2. Hanzo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning you guys here now, Hanzo does have a panic attack in this, and there's a few mentions of blood.

**Chapter 2** **– Hanzo**

My past has tasted bitter  
For years now  
So I wield an iron fist  
Grace is just weakness  
Or so I've been told  
I've been cold, I've been merciless  
But the blood on my hands scares me to death  
Maybe I'm waking up today  
- Jaymes Young "I'll be Good" 

The snap of the bowstring kept him grounded, the continuous calls in his ear piece reminded him that he had to keep his focus. He was the eyes of the operation, he did what he had to do. His teammates and innocent lives, everyone counted on him. It was a burden he happily held.

_Twap_

Even if that meant ending more lives than he had already.

Hanzo looked at the ground as he lowered his bow for a second as he pulled an arrow from his quiver. “There are enemies on the east side of the city,” he said into his communicator. He listened to the confirmation that someone was on their way before he pulled the bowstring back once more, inhaling before he released the arrow into the head of a talon agent.

“ _Nice shot darlin’”_ McCree complimented.

“Of course, who do you think I am.” A small smile spreads across his face at the comment. He shouldered his bow before jumping to another rooftop to reposition himself to keep with the escort team.

It was another mission. Nothing was going to happen. It was simply routine. Even after being with Overwatch for a year, working with his brother side by side once again was still strange at times. Not as strange as it was working the cowboy, but strange nevertheless. Feelings, something he never had to worry about in the Shimada clan were ever present. Knowing that just one utterance of his name in the right tone would get him to drop everything, and drop down from his perch.

He landed on a roof and straightened his back for a second, reaching for his bow.

_Thwap_

_“Hanzo!”_ The archer snapped to attention, his eyes scanning the city before he jumped from his perch without saying anything to the team that was depending on him. It had been far too long since he had heard his name called in that voice, and the last time lead to too many regrets. A decade lost, to worthlessness.

He landed as he pulled back an arrow. He didn’t bother aiming as with a shout, he released the arrow, and with it dragons flying off his arm. The air grew cold as static made the hair on his arms and neck stood up. Temporarily he felt lighter, the mortal coil of his human body melting away as he impressed his will onto the spirits. As the roar of the spirits filled the small area, screams of fallen men easily drowned out by their roars, he turned toward the fallen cyborg.

“Genji,” he said his voice just above a whisper. He moved to inspect his body, he moved to remove his brother’s hands from his side. A viscous, warm mixture of oil and blood flowed from a wound. A curse fell from Hanzo’s mouth as he moved to press his hands to the wound. “We need assistance!” He couldn’t hide the panic from his voice. He knew that what he was looking at didn’t look good, and knowing he was far from the medic was even less encouraging.

_“What’s goin’ on darlin?”_

“I need an escort to Mercy. Genji has been injured.”

“ _Everyone converge on the Shimadas, McCree you escort them Tracer and I will provide cover,”_ Winston ordered from the coms, followed by a confirmation from Tracer. Everything was then sounding like it was coming from another room. Everything was numb, he was looking down at his brother.

In a fit of desperation, he moved and ripped the face mask off of his brother and moved to rip the unused sleeve from his outfit and used it to add more pressure onto Genji’s side. “Genji, please speak.”

“Anija, I will be fine,” a strained voice responded, a forced smile spread across the man’s face. “I have been through worse.” A weak chuckle passed through the man that quickly turned into a cough.

“Not funny! Please, conserve your strength.”

“Sorry, it was in poor taste. Don’t worry Anija. Mercy will have me patched up in no time.” Hanzo wanted to respond, but he couldn’t find the words.

Soon, the other members of their team arrived. Tracer and Winston stood guard as McCree helped Hanzo to his feet, with Genji in his arms. He moved to walk beside the Shimadas, reloading as they ran. Years of being in a gang, and Blackwatch came together. McCree was patient with the two of them, but also knew that they needed to move fast. Lucky for him, the people he was escorting knew how to work with him, and didn’t drag him down as Hanzo matched him step for step.

“We’re almost there darlin’. Just a few more blocks.”

“I am aware, Genji?”

“I am awake. Sheesh you worry too mu-ANIJA!” A loud shot rang out, deafening the three for a second. Time seemed to slow down as Hanzo tried to reach for the small blade in the middle of Genji’s back. The wounded ninja, reached for McCree’s shoulder to steady himself, crying out in pain as Hanzo’s footing gave out, forcing Genji to put more weight into McCree. The three of them toppled down. “Hanzo!” Genji managed to cry out. “Are you..are you alright?”

“Yes, I will survive. My leg is unable to function, McCree, get Genji to Mercy. I will be fine.” Hanzo’s voice was strained as he laid on the ground trying to regain his breath.

“Oh fuck no,” McCree retorted. Genji scoffed as he moved to reapply pressure to the wound.

“Draw your gun,” he said. McCree nodded and Genji placed his hand over McCree’s and said the dragon’s incantation. The green dragon danced around the field as McCree scooped once again helped Hanzo up, scooped Genji into his arm and helped Hanzo hobble to the airship.

“Mercy, we got a live one!” McCree called as the good doctor ran to them. He set Genji on a stretcher. “Focus on Genji, Han lost a leg but that’s more Torb’s area. I’ll call ‘em an’ let ‘em know once I got him settled.”

“Thank-you.” McCree turned toward Hanzo to let out a breath he was holding. The archer was moving to sit in a chair, his broken leg detached from his flesh, a bloody hand print joining the dirt and exposed wiring of the prosthetic. His hair was falling out of its tie as he sat there, near motionless. “Han?”

McCree took a heavy step toward him and paused, seeing the archer’s normally steady hands shake as he turned them, so his palms were facing him.

They were covered in blood.

Hanzo took a step back, his entire body shaking as metal clanged to the ground. The sounds of wet breathing were heard not too far from him. His hair fell over his shoulders as he ran his hand over his face. A warm sticky trail from his fingers were left behind. The floor around him was more red than it was wood-colored. His heart was hammering in his chest.

Hanzo couldn’t believe what he had done. The sword that was on the ground not three feet from him was in a similar condition. A piece of metal was broken off the blade.

He was cold. The air was warm across his skin, through his thin clothing. Sweat was making his hair and clothes stick to him, his heart hammered in his chest as if he had just finished a good work out. but he was still shivering. He couldn’t believe he had just done what was asked of him.

“G-Genji?” he whispered. “Genji…please….no.”

He desperately started crawling toward his brother, pressing his hands on the many wounds, his white clothing turning more and more red with every passing moment. “Genji please no! GENJI!”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he fell forward, meaning to pull his dying brother into his chest, repeating his name over and over. Each time the name left his mouth it was louder, more desperate, pleading for his brother’s return.

“ ** _GENJI!_** ” Hanzo screamed, thrashing around before something pressed against his back, his legs gave out. Arms wrapped around his chest as the desperate calls for his brother devolved into cries. He leaned into whatever was holding him, finding comfort in the smell of cigar smoke and gunpowder.

_“Shh…Han…it’s okay. It’s okay, Genji’s okay.”_

“J-Iesse? What…how did you - where are you?” Hanzo questioned his voice small, barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t go nowhere. Open your eyes hun.” Hanzo did as he told.

He was on an airship, his left leg was gone, Jesse was holding him to his chest, and his hair had fallen over his eyes. He wasn’t in Hanamura, Genji-

“Where’s Genji?” He asked his panic rising again as he struggled against McCree’s grasp.

“Hanzo, calm down. Genji’s fine. He’s sleepin’.” There was a pause as Hanzo slowly stopped struggling.

“Can I see him?” The archer’s voice that normally was filled with pride was hollow. His graceful, powerful presence was gone, he was vulnerable, small his limbs looking like he had just dropped an impossible weight. He was looking down, unable to look McCree in the eyes.

“Lemme see what Angie says. Do you need anything else? Water?”

“Please.”

“Alright.” The firm hands that were holding him in place left, the warm presence that was McCree followed. Hanzo pushed his back against the side of the ship and hugged his knees, pressing his head to the top of them, trying to make himself as small as possible.

He was a monster.

Who completely eviscerates their own brother simply because someone ordered them to? He made his own kin go through an existential crisis that could’ve easily been avoided had he taken a stand and disobeyed.

He was weak.

He couldn’t even stand to look at blood on his hands without going back to that night and have a total mental breakdown. He was dependent on Jesse to pull him out of it, to make sure that he didn’t harm himself, or others.

Jesse’s heavy steps brought him back. He looked up as a mug was handed to him. It was warm to the touch, and smelled familiar. It was his tea.

“Angie says if you’re up to it ya can see ‘em. He’s sleepin’ right now.” Hanzo nodded.

“I just need to know he’s alive. That I…we are real. That this is real.”

“O’course, I understand that.” Jesse raised his hand and then paused. “Can I touch you Han?” He nodded in response.

“Please,” he said as Jesse gently pushed his hair from his face and pulled him onto his lap. He let Hanzo drink his tea in peace. He lightly hummed and pressed his lips against Hanzo’s temple. Jesse’s beard was rough against Hanzo’s skin. He relaxed a little more into him.

Hanzo moved to tuck his nose into Jesse’s neck. “I am a monster,” he mumbled.

“Hun, you’re no more a monster than me. We’ve both done things we ain’t proud of. The important thing is, we’re tryin’ to make it better. You’ve done somethin’ I can admit that I wouldn’t be able to do. I couldn’t do what you’ve done with Genji.”

“You also wouldn’t be in my position to begin with.”

“Now you can’t say that. You don’t know how I was as a kid. I am pretty sure ya woulda shot an arrow through my head, instead of my heart.” Hanzo scoffed causing a small smile to spread on Jesse’s face as he ran a hand over Hanzo’s spine. “Ready to see Genji?”

At the mentioning of his brother, Hanzo tensed again. They both knew that seeing Genji was important to Hanzo, and he also needed to get cleaned up himself. There was a pause before he nodded. Jesse handed him a crutch and they slowly made their way to the medical side of the carrier.

“Winston and Lena are 5 minutes out, we will be on our way out of here soon,” Mercy said quietly as Hanzo moved to hold Genji’s flesh hand. “How has he been?”

“Jus’ had a panic attack over the blood on his hands. We’re gettin’ through it,” Jesse said just as quiet as Hanzo moved to brush his hands through Genji’s hair. “I have so much respect for that man. Not just anyone could do what he’s doin’.”

“Come to the place that saved the person he was meant to kill, ask for not only forgiveness but to trust him in battle? Yeah, not everyone can do that. If there’s one thing I can saw about Shimada Hanzo, is that he came here expecting nothing…but gained everything. Hold onto him Jesse…he is someone you’ll meet only once in a lifetime.”

“Oh trust me, I plan to.” He then moved to join Hanzo at Genji’s bedside. “How is he?”

“Alive…he seems peaceful,” Hanzo mumbled pausing as he looked at his now dried hands. He withdrew them and held them in his lap.

“Come-on, let’s get ‘cha cleaned up, ‘nd then we’ll be jus’ ‘bout ready to leave. We’ll travel in here, Mercy wants to look at ‘cha as well, you got banged up too.” Hanzo nodded and let Jesse help him to his feet.

He had no idea what in the world he had done to deserve someone as loving, and caring as Jesse, and just like the cowboy he wasn’t going to simply let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 and 4 might be a little later this month, or not. Depends on how much I write on Reaper76 week stuff, as I am participating in that and I only have 2/7 works completed and school starts next week as well. So, we'll see. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Both

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: Smoking, implications of throwing up, dreams being weird.

Both Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada knew nightmares. They knew what it was to fall asleep, wake up in a sweat with a sick feeling in the pit of their stomachs. Sometimes it lead to the bathroom, almost always it lead to going to the roof with only a bottle as company for the remainder of the night.

Every now again they both would share a night of nightmares, each one haunted by their pasts, and they’d end up on the roof. Tonight, was such a night.

They opened the door to leading to the roof from their respective rooms at the same time. Both paused to look at the other. McCree was more disheveled than normal, his hat was gone, and his hair was sticking up at odd angles. Hanzo didn’t look much better, his beard hadn’t been groomed, and his hair laid over his shoulders, clearly hadn’t been brushed. Both had bags under their eyes.

“Nightmare?” Jesse asked, even though he didn’t need to. It was said due to them being there at that moment together.

“The same as you I assume,” Hanzo said calmly as he walked into the edge of the roof and sat down. He opened the bottle and took a long drink of the sake. He sighed and leaned his head back as he waited for the alcohol to numb his thoughts.

“Gettin’ pretty eager with the sake tonight. Must’ve been a doosy to put ya in this kind of state.” The archer opened one of his eyes and turned to look at the cowboy.

“You are not wrong,” he confessed as he allowed Jesse to take a drink before he tried to collect his thoughts.

“Wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“Yes…but I am unsure where to start.”

“There ain’t no rush. I can go first if ya like.” Hanzo nodded and took another long drink. Jesse followed the movement and then slung his arm around Hanzo’s shoulder. He looked out toward the ocean, he inhaled and let his shoulders fall and blink a few times. He looked at the bottle in his hands. Hanzo laid his head on the other’s shoulder, waiting for him to start speaking.

The cowboy gave a long inhale and looked at the alcohol level in the bottle. “This dream, was…Swiss. Wasn’t there personally, but…we all knew what happened. Place blew up ‘nd Morrison and Reyes died.” Hanzo looked at McCree.

“You sound like you don’t believe that’s what happened.”

“I don’t.” There was a pause so Jesse to get a drink. “In my dreams I keep seein’ Reaper. Dream me keeps callin’ him Reyes. He talks jus’ like ‘em and he knows shit that only he -Reyes -  knows. My weaknesses, values an’ shit that I don’t tell anyone. Tonight…he attacked you.” Hanzo looked at Jesse and gently placed his hand over his.

“My dream was similar.” Jesse raised an eye and Hanzo took a drink himself. He looked up at the sky and inhaled. He moved to pull a cigarette and McCree lit it for him. “I was surrounded by Talon, I allowed myself to get captured to benefit the team. Reaper was leading the grunts. He threatened you, despite our agreement.

“You know how my dragons are controlled by my emotions, correct?” Jesse nodded. “I was enraged and because of that I unleashed them on Talon. But… but when the dust cleared, Talon wasn’t the one who was attacked. It was Overwatch. All of our friends were dead…by my hands.” He looked at his hands and inhaled. “You were the only one who was still alive. You looked me in the eye and said that you were right in your original assessment on character when I first arrived here.” Jesse moved to pull Hanzo closer into a hug.

“After Reaper kept talkin, I used Deadeye against Reyes, wanting to end his pitiful life, if ya could call it that. He’s…”

“Different.”

“Yeah. Like I thought he was dead Han. The man I looked up to until…shit started happening is…different. I know you know what I am goin’ through but…you ain’t scared of Genji. You’re proud of him and who he’s become. I can’t say the same for Reyes.”

There was a pause where both men simply sat there, stewing in their own feelings of self-hate.

“Jesse, who did you shoot in your dream?”

“I didn’t say-“

“You only use deadeye when you intend to kill. Who was it?”

Jesse looked away. “The only other person on the roof…”

Hanzo nodded and looked at his hands. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. The demons of their past kept breathing down their necks. They kept whispering in their ears, making them second guess everything. A small act of kindness quickly turned into suspicion. A suspicion turns into guarded hatred. They don’t allow anyone in, everyone is held at arm’s length. It was a lonely life.

Somehow, they found each other. A miracle in itself that they both pulled each other together. Hanzo stopped having this cold rigid act, and McCree dropped his light-hearted act to be serious in other situations that weren’t life or death. The team learned who Hanzo and Jesse were after they found who each other were.

“Han…I’m tired.” Hanzo put his cigarette out and took a drink of his sake as he turned toward McCree. “’M tired of everything. Tired of lookin’ at everyone, everythin’ and immediately thinkin’ it’s bad. I’m tired of…this. Hanzo….I am tired of being scared of going to sleep.” Hanzo nodded.

Hanzo looked at his hands. “I am tired also tired. Tired of looking at Genji and seeing the biggest regret of my life. I am tired of seeing him and seeing him smile and immediately know that I tried to take that smile, that joy frim him. I am tired, of seeing people….live their lives unknowing of the things we’ve done, or what others like us have do. I wish that I…that we can live in that ignorance.”

“I share the same sentiments.”

“People like us don’t deserve happiness…”

“We don’t.”

Hanzo laid his head on Jesse’s shoulder. “Yet…here we are.”

“Yeah.” Jesse rubbed his side gently. They looked toward the ocean, watching the waves crash against the rocks as the stars above them twinkling. On a normal day, if they were a normal couple this would be a beautiful. What was supposed to be beautiful, but all they saw was a black abyss that was just going to consume them, the darkness that was their soul, that was going to end their life, and the lives of everyone that they cared about.

“Ya know, at least we’re sufferin’ and self-wallowin’ together.” Hanzo hummed in agreement as his eyelids started to get heavy. His mind buzzed with alcohol, and warm company. Jesse tucked his hair behind his ear. “Wanna go to bed?”

“No,” Hanzo mumbled with a shake of his head. “I feel safe.” Jesse gave him a small smile.

“How ‘bout we go back to bed together?”

“I’d like that.”

“Can ya walk?” Hanzo frowned and lifted his head. His cheeks were a little rosy from the sake.

“Yeah. I don’t want to.”

“It’ll be okay darlin’. We can use my room it’s closer.”

“Please.”

Jesse helped the archer to his feet and they both stumbled to Jesse’s room. It wasn’t uncommon for them to sleep in a room together after a joint nightmare.  It was the only way they were able to get more sleep. That, and alcohol. The sleep wasn’t restful, but it did make them a little more rested, their minds sharp enough that they felt comfortable bringing their weapons out to defend their friends.

Honestly, Jesse was surprised that they haven’t moved in the same room together with both their mental issues. The support they gave each other, was unlike any other. They both needed each other.

Jesse hugged Hanzo close and kissed the top of his head.

“Do you think we’d ever be able to jus’ sleep?” Jesse whispered. “Not wakin’ up to nightmares and shit?”

“Perhaps…but I don’t think that nights like that are anywhere in our near future…”

“Fuckin’ sucks.”

“Agreed.” Hanzo nestled into Jesse’s arms and buried himself into his warmth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than I anticipated. School happened and then I got into a drawing kick which typically brings on writer's block, so I haven't been happy with anything I've been writing. 
> 
> I do plan on finishing this, but it'l take a while.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this! 
> 
> If you want to follow me more, and see all my ramblings and stuff you can follow me on [Tumblr,](http://www.caliginous-Confused.tumblr.com/) [art blog where I post a lot of random stuff,](http://www.caliginous-arts.tumblr.com) [ and Twitch.](https://twitch.tv/caliginousconfused)


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